


Scully's Friend pt.2

by somekindofseizure



Series: WTID Supplemental Reading [15]
Category: The Fall (TV 2013), The X-Files
Genre: F/F, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 21:52:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14222547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somekindofseizure/pseuds/somekindofseizure
Summary: Okay, fine. Sequel to Scully’s Friend.





	Scully's Friend pt.2

Scully grabs her the minute she opens the door, swims an arm around Stella’s waist like a tossed-out lifesaving raft and hugs her close beneath the cover of navy ocean blue wool-cashmere. The collar of the coat reeks of perfume in a way that would be irritating on just about anybody else.

“You think you’re so funny,” she murmurs into the shoulder, nudging a tendril of blonde with her nose.

“Yes,” Stella whispers.

“Have you been waiting in a hotel the past three days for that thing to be delivered?”

“Yes.”

“Doing what?”

“That’s not really any of your business, is it?”

Scully pulls back and puts a finger under Stella’s chin, posing her hand like a clumsy stand beneath a perfect work of Italian sculpture. She’s going to kiss her. It’s been a very, very long time. But it’s clearly where this has been going. The toy, the phone call, the grand gesture of the surprise arrival… they’re going to do this again. Scully’s heart beats almost out of her chest.

“No kissing,” Stella says when the tips of their upper lips are almost touching, making the inside of a capital letter M in profile.

“What?”

“No kissing. I’m just here to show you the full potential of the toy.”

Scully doesn’t bother to press for a clearer explanation of Stella’s most current sex logic 101, but instead grabs her wrist, cool from the evening air outside and drags her toward the living room. Stella shakes off her coat while Scully unboxes the toy for the second time in an hour. It takes only a moment of Stella’s looking around to somehow figure out the alchemy of the automatic fireplace. Scully has at times regretted the choices she made with this house, but watching Stella waltz her way around it barefoot in a dark blue, almost-black skirt with a slit up the back like an owner just back to relieve the house sitter, she realizes why she picked it. It reminded her, when she chose it, of the life she wasn’t going to have. Mulder was never going anywhere, but Stella, well Stella’s presence always meant a vanishing was coming as well.

“Lie down. Take off your pants,” Stella says and Scully hooks her thumbs under her underwear to save time and bends toward the couch, slightly uneasy. If there’s to be no kissing, is she just going to perform?

“No. On the floor. Leave the underwear on.”

She feels like she’s in high school on someone’s parents’ floor about to maybe lose her virginity as she waits in the hot shadow of the fireplace with one arm overhead and the pink toy in her other palm.

“None of these rules ever do what you’re hoping they’ll do,” she tells Stella, still hoping for that kiss.

“How do you know?”

Scully sighs but says nothing because now Stella is gently kicking Scully’s legs wider with the edges of her foot, sweeping a space for herself on the floor there. Scully laughs, the sound low and garbled from the oak lining her spine.

“What are you doing?” she asks with pretend pique.

“Nothing. You and Mimi are doing it all.”

“Who?”

“That’s what the toy is called.”

Scully is almost having too much fun to be turned on. Almost. But Stella is hiking a hand up beneath her skirt so she holds her breath instead, makes it smoothly past that ‘almost’ when the panties hit the floor with a soft swoosh. Scully doesn’t see anything, in fact sees less and less as Stella sits with her legs folded beneath her, heels under her ass. But she can feel Stella’s knees poking the insides of her thighs; she can feel Stella’s eyes poking her everywhere else. If the new rules were meant to limit intimacy, vulnerability, they’re not working from at least one perspective. But maybe that’s always Stella’s modus operandi – to make herself less vulnerable by weakening the defenses of her opponent. Even as best of friends, Scully has no illusions – anyone Stella finds herself in bed with is as much an opponent as a collaborator.

“Show me what you’ve learned so far.”

Scully presses the plus sign, fumbling a little for which one is which on the tiny, elegant panel, and brings the toy down to her pubic bone. She’s nervous, has even less of an idea what to expect than when she tried the thing earlier.

“Inside your panties.”

Scully slips it under the waistband of her simple seamless underwear and leaves the vibrator on the second to lowest speed, lets it rumble almost soundlessly against between her body and her fingers. The backs of her knuckles stretch the fabric of her underwear and she can’t decide whether the activity makes her happy or sad she isn’t wearing something fancier. No matter now that she’s sighing softly, sinking into the rhythm, forgetting almost that she has company. Stella reminds her of her presence with an approving hum so nice it nudges Scully’s body and the toy to pick up where they left off getting acquainted.

“Do you know,” Scully says, “It has this little tip at the end?”

“Yes. It’s the new model, it’s a little longer, added almost a fingertip to it.”

“I want your fingertip.”

“No, you don’t. Or you shouldn’t. If you’re wanting for anything, press one of the buttons.”

Scully does, ups the speed by two notches, begins to squirm against it.

“There. Hold still,” Stella says and gently puts a hand under one of Scully’s knees, lifting from its prone position on the floor. She unfolds one of her own legs and slides it under Scully’s leg and the contact with bits of Stella’s skin without being able to actively touch drives Scully’s forearm to her face. She breathes into her elbow, bites a bit of her own flesh to keep from asking for what she can’t have. She can just barely see where this is going, has just barely enough grasp of biology if not sexual creativity, has played just enough games of Twister to imagine it as Stella places her other foot outside Scully’s other hip, scissoring her body around Scully’s as she lies back on the floor. Scully holds her breath, almost silences the toy to listen better to the sound of Stella’s skirt moving up higher in bunches between her fingers, her silk shirt slithering across the floor, her head dragging as she moves her body down to meet Scully’s.

“Remove your hand but leave the toy.”

“Oh my God,” Scully says as finally Stella locks her body around Scully’s and sandwiches the toy between them. The pressure is everywhere and nowhere that she wants it to be. She grabs Stella’s foot, the one looped over rather than under her body, and hugs it to her chest. Stella hums, grinds against the toy, and Scully’s clit takes the effort very much to heart, quivers before it returns the favor. They move like this, almost passing the toy back and forth except never losing contact on either side, a few times. Scully worries between gasps of pleasure that the damp fabric of her underwear will chafe Stella’s skin but Stella always grinds harder, hums louder.

“I can’t,” Scully says and she doesn’t even know what she meant to say after but Stella responds, “Yes you can,” anyway and that seems to make sense. She squeezes the arch of Stella’s foot and smacks her other hand against the wood floor twice. To her surprise, Stella reaches for it and takes it, interlaces their knuckles together and rests them on a grainy panel just outside their thickly layered hipbones.

“You feel so good,” Scully says with a hint of desperation. She’s going to come and she wants it very badly but she wishes it were only a little different from this. She’s old fashioned. She wants a kiss. She wants a face. But she also wants this and only this thing that feels so incredibly new and luscious and surprising and… well, so Stella.

“That’s not me, it’s the toy,” Stella says.

“You smell so good.”

“That’s me.”

Scully smiles but doesn’t laugh because Stella pushes harder, rolls her hips just so, so that Mimi rolls against Scully’s body with a longer sweep, covering more territory. Stella lifts her ass, angling it and the toy – goddamn it she’s good with geography – finds the exact coordinate for -

“I’m going to come,” Scully says.

“Okay baby, hold that thought, give me the middle button three times.”

Scully lets go of Stella’s foot and reaches down swiftly, does as she’s told. She hates the pulsing, yes, but it doesn’t matter because she’s so close. It doesn’t matter the way the thing is dancing erratically against her clit and diving slightly, unnervingly into her G-spot when Stella presses. Stella’s breathing starts to take on the slightest vocalization, almost a wheeze, and Scully knows she’ll have company if she can hang on for just a minute more. Or maybe close the gap…

She reaches for Stella’s foot again, pulls it up over her chest, lets Stella arch it and press it into her sternum for a moment. A curse word lingers on the tip of Scully’s tongue but she’s too breathless to actually say it. She could come like this, with the pressure from Stella’s foot there over her heart, but she remembers she’s trying to do something, takes that foot to her mouth, licks the tip of each toe.

“Oh,” Stella says in that unrecognizable voice twenty years younger she reserves for such moments. Her hips suddenly come to a halt, no grinding, no rolling, and Mimi really is doing all the work now for them. Scully sucks the middle toe, teases the joint with her teeth.

“Fuck me, that’s nice,” Stella says and Scully could almost swear – though she won’t ask – she’s stumbled upon something Stella’s never done before, or let be done to her. “You’re going to make me come.”

“That’s not me,” Scully says. “It’s the toy.”

She knows they’re the magic words the minute she says them, though it wasn’t her intention, knows it’s just the thing to give Stella permission she needs to let go, lose herself to the strength of their conjoined bodies. Her back arches and ass pushes against Scully. Her foot comes up from Scully’s mouth in the momentum, letting it hover just over Scully’s nipple – possibly by accident, possibly not even noticing, because nipples do seem to be off the table in the current iteration of the rule book - but Scully does notice and the warmth of Stella’s skin over her shirt is what she focuses on as she lets the toy fuck her into a sharp, overloaded, overwhelmingly deliciously inhuman orgasm. It’s so sudden when it ends, that she nearly collapses to her side trying to get away from it, then remembers she has control of it. She reaches into her underwear roughly. and fumbles. Stella laughs.

“Hold it down. The other one.” 

And finally silence.

They lie there limp for a moment, a tangle of limbs and clothes caught wet in the tide of their frustrated feelings.

“I miss you,” Stella says throatily. The floor. And the orgasm. But something else too.

“You mean right now or when you’re in London?”

There’s a pause. Scully hugs Stella’s ankle to her chest, kisses the top of her foot. Even her feet smell good, like they’ve been permanently treated by the impression of expensive leather.

“Well, I’ll only allow you to fix one of those.”

Scully hesitates, but then what the hell, presses herself up, spins on her hip – a little sore from the workout – and cuddles into the crook of Stella’s shoulder, weaves her leg between Stella’s the other way around, braiding them with rather than against the grain. She hasn’t let go of the toy, and it rests now between her palm and Stella’s rising and falling chest. She finds it comforting, the texture of it, the weight of it, and she has a feeling after this encounter the sentimentalism of it will only grow more. She’ll find herself holding it all night like a security blanket.

Stella pulls her closer with the arm underneath Scully’s body, and picks up the toy with her other hand, holds it up to the light to admire the stain of Scully’s orgasm, crystalline and teardropped against the luxe synthetic.

“God,” Stella whispers, brings the less wet side to her nose.

“Don’t,” Scully laughs but Stella flattens it against her lips and then licks it.

“There’s something wrong with you,” Scully says lovingly with reference to the absurdity of it all, what’s allowed and what isn’t, how it changes. She tilts her chin to look at her friend – God has she stretched the meaning of the word friend in the course of her life - but Stella begins studying the ceiling with serious contemplation, avoiding Scully’s eyes as though those have suddenly been taken off limits as well. 

“Yes, there is,” Stella confirms. “But the toy is very good, isn’t it.”

Scully slides her arm under Stella’s waist and holds it, wonders how long the rules will allow her to do so.

“It’s very good,” she says as she closes her eyes. “But I remember liking you better.”


End file.
